


Dream of a Thousand Cats

by lookninjas



Category: Glee
Genre: Dream Logic, Multi, slight crack.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookninjas/pseuds/lookninjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Burt and Carole come home from a date to find Kurt and his boyfriend asleep on the sofa.  The shotgun fails to make an appearance.  (The giant robots, however, are everywhere).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream of a Thousand Cats

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Dream of a Thousand Cats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8892556) by [Klaineship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaineship/pseuds/Klaineship)



> So I wrote [fic](http://lookninjas.livejournal.com/133862.html#cutid1) where Blaine is half-asleep and Kurt cuddles him. And then [](http://robotsfighting.livejournal.com/profile)[robotsfighting](http://robotsfighting.livejournal.com/) wrote [And I Was a Cartographer](http://robotsfighting.livejournal.com/2632.html?style=mine#cutid1), in which _Kurt_ is half-asleep and Blaine cuddles him. And then I realized that the only logical next step would be to write fic where they're _both_ asleep, and they cuddle each other.
> 
> Also, giant robots, because my last fic was sadly lacking in them and I need to rectify that.

So then there's this cat.

Or maybe it's not totally a cat, because it's not fuzzy like a cat and Blaine's pretty sure that cats are supposed to be fuzzy. But it's soft, which is nice, and it's warm, which is nice, and it's on his lap, which is even nicer. Maybe the nicest thing ever.

Actually, the cat's not really on his lap so much anymore -- it started off that way, but since then it's sort of grown to spread all over the rest of him too, with its front paws kind of up at his shoulders and then its back paws stretching all the way down past his feet, and so by now it's sort of on his lap but then also on all of him, which is actually a lot better than just having a cat on his lap.

If it is a cat. He's pretty sure it's not a cat. But whatever it is, he likes it.

It makes him want to purr.

Actually, maybe he's the cat.

He could be a cat. There's no reason why he couldn't.

Maybe they're both cats.

He must be a cat, because then someone's petting his head.

"I hate to wake them up," the robot says, and Blaine shifts a little bit but he's still being covered by the cat, which is heavy, and so he can't move very much, let alone run away. But that's all right, because he's not scared of the robot. It's a nice robot. It pets him. And then it pets the cat. "But I'm sure his parents are --"

The other robot sighs, shifting. "It's a hell of a drive back to Westerville," he says, pushing back his baseball cap. "Kind of not sure how I feel about him heading off alone when he's this tired, you know? Anyway, it's not like they're _doing_ anything. I mean, look at 'em."

The first robot shakes her head, and maybe she's not a robot, because she has a name. Her name is Carole. Most robots aren't named Carole. Blaine's pretty sure. "So much for the shotgun," she says, and stops petting the cat so she can start petting the other robot, adjusting the front of his jacket and smoothing her hands over his shoulders. "I can't believe you're not more upset about this. Weren't you supposed to be the one to do the worrying? I thought we agreed on that. That you would do the worrying."

"Look, if he'd brought home someone like... I dunno, that Puckerman kid or something, then yeah. I'd worry a little more." The robot (Ro-Burt? Bot? Burt?) shrugs and looks back at Blaine and his cat (Kurt, not cat. Kurt. _His_ Kurt) sprawled out on the couch together, paws and tails intertwined. "But Blaine's a good kid. He's polite, respectful... And, you know, I'd feel bad if he got in a wreck 'cause I made him drive home when he was half-asleep. Not to mention that Kurt would kill me."

"It is awfully late," Carole sighs, and Blaine thinks briefly that he should open his eyes. Which is weird, because he doesn't really need to -- he can see her just fine, standing at the edge of the couch in her robot suit, leaning against Burt's chest. Honestly, he's not sure why he wouldn't be able to see Carole even with his eyes closed. She's, like, twenty feet tall. "And at least it's not a school night, so we wouldn't have to worry about getting him to Dalton in the morning."

Burt kisses her cheek. "We might as well call his folks and ask," he says. "No harm in that."

Carole breaks away, heading off to the city (not city -- kitchen; it's a kitchen). "Their number's on the fridge, right?"

"Right next to the icemaker," Burt says, and Blaine tries to open his eyes again, just to see if he can. There's a moment where things sort of blur, when he can't see Burt behind his head anymore; can't see anything but Kurt's soft brown hair and the point of his left shoulder, but then it's gone and he's back in the city, surrounded by robots. "The... uh... the orange post-it. With the scribbles in the corner. You find it?"

"Yeah," Carole replies, her voice coming from somewhere far away, and Blaine really is going to have to open his eyes, because he can't find her anymore.

He thinks it might be easier to open his eyes if he's sitting up, but when he tries to move, Burt's hand falls heavy on his shoulder, keeping him down on the couch, and why is he on the couch? He shouldn't be on the couch, even if there is a cat; he should be in his car, driving away from the robots, driving home, because it's late and Kurt's parents will be home soon, will be --

"Hon, could you grab some pillows?" Carole asks. Blaine tries opening his eyes again, but it's a lot harder than he thinks it should be. "And maybe a blanket or two? They might get cold during the night."

Burt grunts and squeezes Blaine's shoulder, and the cat shifts a little bit on Blaine's lap, and that's the moment when Blaine finally manages to open his eyes.

He tilts his head back onto the arm of the couch and looks up at Kurt's dad, and yeah, he's still at their house, on their couch, Kurt wrapped up tight against his chest and fast asleep. Blaine's pretty sure he _should_ be in a lot of trouble right now, but he's also pretty sure that he's _not_ , somehow. He's not totally sure why not.

He kind of thinks it has something to do with giant robots.

Still, it's a good idea to check, just in case. "'Mm 'n trouble?" he asks, which isn't entirely what he wanted to say, but it's kind of the best he can manage, so he leaves it at that.

Which must be okay, because Burt smiles down at him, shakes his head. "You're not in trouble," he says. "It's fine. Go back to sleep, Blaine."

"Sleep," Blaine echoes, and lets his head tip back down. The top of Kurt's head is right beneath Blaine's chin, nestled in close and safe and comfortable, and his hair is soft like a cat's fur. "Kurt fell 'sleep. Tired."

"Guess so." Burt ruffles his hair, and Blaine feels himself starting to slip back down again, his eyes sliding closed. "Guess you are, too," he says, gently.

"Mmm," Blaine agrees, and then he says "Kurt," again, because it's important. It's really important; it's the most important thing. "Kurt."

 _His_ Kurt.

He tightens his arms around Kurt's shoulders, and Kurt's paws grip his shirt, and their tails tangle together, and Burt pets Blaine's head, and he's not in any trouble.

The robots are here, and he's not in any trouble.


End file.
